


Unexpected

by Fluffyllama (Llama)



Category: Numb3rs
Genre: Incest, M/M, Sibling Incest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-12-28
Updated: 2011-12-28
Packaged: 2017-10-28 08:06:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,407
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/305704
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Llama/pseuds/Fluffyllama
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>As soon as Don opened the door, Charlie knew there was a problem.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Unexpected

**Author's Note:**

> College days.

As soon as Don opened the door, Charlie knew there was a problem. From the perfectly ironed shirt to the shave so fresh there were still scraps of foam speckling his chin, Don looked more like a man about to hit the town than one expecting his younger brother at the door. There was also the matter of the look of astonishment on Don’s face.

“Charlie?”

“Yeah, is—is this a bad time?” Charlie peered past Don into the gloom of the hallway; no sign of anyone there, so maybe he wasn’t actually interrupting anything. “I left a message, so I thought—”

“Oh, yeah.” Don ducked his head, and Charlie knew that meant he hadn’t been checking the machine again. “I’ve not been in long; we played West Park this afternoon.”

“You win?” Charlie followed Don down the hall, taking in all the changes. New picture on the wall by the stairs – he leaned in closer – oil, signed, and how long had Don been hanging out with the arty crowd?

“Of course we won.” Don punched his arm lightly, and Charlie grimaced. He really hated it when Don did that, he just didn’t seem to realise his own strength at times. “And uh, I’m supposed to be meeting the guys for a quick celebration, so—”

It was Friday night – of course Don had plans. Only a stupid kid pretending to be as old as his brother wouldn’t have thought of that. Charlie had no reason to feel disappointed; Don hadn’t got his message, and Charlie was lucky he’d got here in time, not missed him.

“I mean, I won’t drink much, not if I’m driving us up to Mom and Dad’s tomorrow morning, but I didn’t know you were coming, and they’re expecting me and all…”

“Oh, no, that’s fine.” Charlie forced a bright smile and thought about spending an evening in Don’s place alone. It wouldn’t be so bad, even if it would have been cool to spend a little more time with Don. “You go, have fun. I brought work.” He waved his bag, and this time the grin was real, because really, it went without saying.

“Thanks, buddy.” And wow, he really had only just caught him, because Don was picking up his jacket.

“Or, I could come too?” Charlie added as Don shrugged it on. He tried not to flinch at the obvious hesitation.

“Oh, I dunno about that, Charlie.” Don didn’t look him in the eye. He just concentrated really hard on rubbing at his chin in the mirror.

“What? Why not?” For some reason, the more reluctant Don was, the more appealing the idea became. The past few weeks had been nothing but exams, papers, and lectures, and here was Don playing baseball half the time. It wasn’t even such a big deal — it wouldn’t be the first time Charlie had hung out with some of Don’s friends.

“One, you’re not old enough to drink.”

“I’ll drink soda.”

“And two, the team can be a bit of a rough crowd. I’m not looking forward to facing Mom if anything happens to you.” Oh, that just wasn’t playing fair.

Charlie sighed and settled himself back on the sofa. “So, you got any good movies?”

It took Charlie about an hour to grow bored with poking around Don’s rooms. Apparently Don’s life at college wasn’t as interesting as it could be, which was vaguely disappointing. It was practically Don’s obligation to provide entertainment for the family in the form of scandalous affairs and parties that involved drugs (though mild ones, because god, those things could be dangerous, and he wasn’t _that_ desperate for Don to have more fun than him).

Only two things caught his interest at all: a postcard from Florence with an illegible signature but a fair amount of affection ( _Don has a girlfriend_ , he smirked to himself), and a locked drawer in the bedside cabinet that for all his efforts refused to magically unlock itself, however many times he was drawn back to it. Clearly more details on this girlfriend would have to be prodded directly out of Don.

The movies were okay though, and he even looked up once or twice from his work to give them his full attention for a few seconds. By the time he’d changed the tape twice, he was sitting on the floor against the sofa, surrounded by scribbled notes, and he had to focus hard on the clock before the meaning of the little blips of green light sank in.

Almost midnight – so much for Don’s quick drink.

Calling the number of the bar Don had left got him a couple of grunts and the time of the last bus, and it was a pleasant enough evening for a walk. Unlike home, or the enclosed campus Charlie was used to, it was quiet here, all leafy avenues and wide sidewalks once you left the student ghetto that was Don’s street. There was hardly a soul in sight, just an old guy walking his dog and nodding an “Evening” at Charlie, a solitary car pulling into a driveway with a low purr, and finally, illuminated in the departing glow of the bus’s taillights, a figure that looked remarkably like Don… and who wasn’t alone.

It wasn’t easy to see, even with the streetlight catching the movement of Don’s hand, a patch of improbable yellow-white slipping underneath the other figure’s jacket, but Charlie could see the arm around the waist, the way they walked in perfect, companionable steps even hip to hip, and damn, but she had a long stride for a woman, and really not very girly hips– oh. But then they weren’t walking, because Don was stopping, and so was the other figure, and it wasn’t clear who was pushing or pulling who, but somehow they blended into the shadow of the tree and each other, and Charlie could see straggly dark hair (but no, still not a woman) catch on the rough surface, only to be smoothed by those familiar hands.

And yeah, he and Don had played around a little, because Charlie had needed to know things that maybe other boys his age didn’t, and they’d always been close. But then it had been college, and “No, Charlie, we can’t do that any more”, and “When you’re older you’ll like girls that way instead”. So he lay in his bed a hundred miles away, trying not to think about Don’s breath against his lips, or the way he used to wake up next to Don, all restless and needy in ways he couldn’t put into words. The way Don would let him press up against his hip until they were both breathless and sticky, fighting over who got to make the first early morning dash to the shower. He’d never imagined Don might have meant something different.

He’d never imagined that Don had _lied_ to him.

When the front door clicked open and shut again, Charlie squirmed on the sofa and burrowed down further into the blankets.

“Hey, Charlie.” Don’s voice was soft, and Charlie wanted to nuzzle into the hand that stroked the hair from his forehead, but he made himself lie still. “You awake there, buddy?”

It was impossible to stay silent with that voice there, so low but close enough that Charlie could feel the heat of Don’s breath on his cheek, and so familiar that his body was already responding against his will.

“Hmmph,” he managed, and after a struggle to free his mouth from the woollen fuzz of the blanket: “Not really.”

“Okay.” Don straightened up, but he didn’t move, just seemed to be standing there, blocking the light that still flickered from the TV.

“You could have taken my bed, you know,” he added finally. “Or we could have shared, it’s big enough, and it’s only one night.”

“I thought about it.” Charlie let his eyes drift shut, because he needed sleep and he really, _really_ couldn’t talk about what he needed to without a whole lot more thinking. “And then—” He yawned, and if there was just the tiniest pleasure in making Don wait to hear the rest, he didn’t really think he could be blamed. “Then I remembered – we don’t do that any more.”

And he couldn’t swear to it, because his eyes were shut and they stayed that way, but Charlie thought that when sleep claimed him, Don was still standing there.


End file.
